


All Credits to Moffat

by FMJemena2



Category: Johnlock fandom - Fandom, Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: BBC Sherlock (AU), M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-27 18:08:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20952662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FMJemena2/pseuds/FMJemena2
Summary: Alternate Universe.A moment in the life of William Scott (Consulting Detective) and Dr. Shaun Hamish Douglass, the people on whom Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss based their modern Sherlock and John Watson characters.





	All Credits to Moffat

**Author's Note:**

> I originally wrote this for Cindy Delbridge's "221B Challenge" for Autumn 2019. But the story didn't want me to cut it short. So, I'll have to come up with a new one for the Challenge. 
> 
> My prompts were sweater/jumper and hot chocolate. 
> 
> I used part of Sherlock's name as my character's 'true' name. For John, I used a Scottish variation and just added 'Douglass' as the surname. (However, when posting, I saw that there is a William Scott of "Banana Fish." I have no idea who he is.)
> 
> I'm just happy I wrote something not work-related.
> 
> Eight story to upload on AO3.
> 
> **I hope you'll enjoy the story... Thank you much, in advance, for any kudos it may receive.**

The mug of hot chocolate banged on the table.

William Scott looked up from his journal. “Shaun?”

Without turning, his partner jabbed the newspaper towards him. It showed a page containing an interview with Steven Moffat, the co-creator of BBC Sherlock. _“Sherlock and Irene Adler have ‘a passionate night’ every 6 months,”_ the article read.

William closed the journal and scanned the piece. He looked up. “You did get that that was how he imagined the relationship went. We did give him and Mark creative license.” 

“Yeah, we did. But…Was that how it went, William?” Shaun asked, still looking out on the quiet night street below. “I know I advised you to go after her, because I thought you…Do you still wish to--” he did not go on. He picked on a loose yarn of his cashmere jumper, William’s gift last Christmas. 

His lover came to stand behind him. A large pale hand covered his own tanned one. “Don’t pick on it,” his lover said before kissing the top of Shaun’s head. Long arms embraced him tightly and lips kissed his shoulder. “We’ve been lovers for six years. What really brought this on?”

Shaun replied tonelessly, “I saw Irina leave the apartment early this morning just as I arrived by cab.” 

A bomb. William stiffened. “You did? And you thought--” He turned Shaun around to face him. He was angry. “Shaun Hamish Douglass, I have never been unfaithful to you! Ever!” Then he dashed into their bedroom. Alarmed, the doctor followed suit. The detective was opening drawers and his cabinet, the boxes under their bed.

“Do you think she—But weren’t you here?”

“I was. Drunk and asleep,” the detective said tightly. “Spent most of last night with Lister and Molly.” He rummaged some more, this time in his sock drawer. “Found it!” He got up, clutching a pair of navy socks. It was… out of shape with a small light blue envelope jutting from it. 

William took the envelope, handing Shaun the misshapen socks. As he tore it open, his lover unrolled the socks… and gasped. 

“William, what’s this?” There was a tremor in Shaun’s voice as he showed him an open Cartier red gift box with a pair of platinum 1895 wedding bands. 

William paled, then blushed. “I-I was going to ask for your hand in marriage this Christmas. At Angelo’s.” 

“That’s almost three months away, and—” he choked, “these are wedding bands!” 

“You do not approve?”

At William’s stricken face, Shaun hurriedly replied, “It’s a wonderful idea. It’s just that there’s--,” he rubbed his face, thinking _This is as good a time as any._ He straightened his shoulders and gave his lover a piercing gaze. “William, I am thrilled that you want to marry me. But, I have a question: do you love me enough to want to stay with me for a very long time, if not the rest of our lives? You know my nature.”

William’s answer was swift. “As you do mine… I’ll answer that question with another: I know you love me truly. But can you, Shaun, forsake the charms of women and love and desire only me for the rest of your life? Well, mostly me, anyway. The desire part.” The doctor saw his lover swallow nervously, but his gaze was unflinching. 

Shaun, Capt. Shaun Hamish Douglass, already knew his answer. So, he stood at attention like the honorable ex-soldier he is and gave his answer. “William, I admit there will be times when I will admire a woman’s charms. But I choose you. I CHOSE YOU. What's more, I loved you before I chose you. I settled that question with myself a long time ago and I am happy with it. I am content with it. My love and my faithfulness will always be yours, no matter how much you try my patience and my sanity.”

As William smiled in relief, his mobile beeped. He closed his eyes in irritation for a while before he looked at the text. _For god’s sake, get it over with. Don’t wait for Xmas. We’re all waiting. -- Michael_

In answer, William picked up his journal and swung it at the buffalo’s skull on the wall. It fell on the table beneath it, dislodging a tiny camera. 

Shaun gaped. “It’s been there all along? But we—we did so many…red pants on Mondays…” he sputtered and stopped, crimson-faced. He wondered if he will find his arse staring back at him someday on Porn Tube.

William gave him the trademark sociopathic grin that actor Benedict Cumberbatch made famous. 

Understanding dawned in the doctor’s eyes. “Oh, you cock!”

“Is that a ‘yes’?” 

“Why? Have you answered my question?” 

“I thought my answer had been obvious so many times, my love.”

The doctor flushed and lowered his head. He remembered all the troubles their partnership went through, all recreated on TV. And just like in the series, he thought for a long time that his lover did all those things out of brotherly love.

“’No’ -- for your first question,” William added, causing Shaun to look back at him. “No, I never went after Irina, despite my initial attraction to her and your advice. And no, I never wished, since then, to be intimate with her.”

Shaun’s dark blue eyes teared up a little. He held out his hand for the envelope and card his lover was holding. William handed them over. The torn envelope had held a pair of silver filigree keys with a card that read, _“The jeweler and his wife are old clients of mine. Have a good 1-2 weeks in this Honeymoon Cottage in Sussex whenever you decide to marry (or not marry). The address is at the back. Love, Irina.”_

# # #


End file.
